Skyrim Chronicles: Dragonbait
by Masterless
Summary: Onyx the Dragonborn finds himself aiding a young woman who is left as bait for a dragon. Though things aren't as simple as it seems; the rescue mission is far more than what it is.


Arvak takes me faster than any horse has taken me before through the snowy lands of Skyrim. The mountains are of no consequences for him; Shadowmane may have been one of the best companions I have taken under my wing, but Arvak remains to be the better of the two. Accompanied by Soulcain's fire, his speed is unmatched and the aesthetics that goes along with him serves its purpose. More than once bandits on the road have steered clear of my path just because they are well aware that anyone who rides the horse who cheated death is none other than the one who is known as Dragonborn. That title could be a curse as well… Passing through Dawnstar earlier today wasn't as I hoped it would be. Then again, what would one expect in a world where danger, rumors, the meek are in every corner? I would say that I tried a route of illusiveness, but no. I am coined as 'Onyx' for the ebony armor that adorns my stature… From the Masque of Clavicus Vile and the unique ebony mail, I am distinguishable among the crowds of warriors and mercenary that passes by Dawnstar. Or any town or city in Skyrim for that matter. I had no real business in this town, nor do did I have any in any other. I was just passing by as I always do… searching for something to occupy my time. Something did almost immediately.

"Dragonborn."

With the calling of that name, I usually prepare myself for a physical confrontation. More often than not it led to just that. I turned around in a defensive yet still calm manner to face the feminine voice that called upon me. An Altmer meets me from a safe proximity. She stood with her hands crossed in front of her, her green eyes slightly shimmering. Her long golden locked hair frames her beautiful face with the Altmer trademark ears slightly poking through the side. I didn't give her the slightest body language or reaction. I could tell that she wanted to see some expression through the Masque of Clavicus Vile that adorns my face. A norm of living in Skyrim: a common folk or Jarl would need something from you when you don armor and carry a blade.

"Name, Altmer," I say rather tersely. "I am in no entertaining mood."

"Cidne."

Cidne's eyes never wavered from my presence. She kept her gaze upon me; her body language insinuating a dire need.

"Speak. You need something."

From there the words of the Altmer poured like a waterfall. I spoke very little in between, letting Cidne carve out the details I needed despite how hysterical she was. Hysterical, but somewhat exuberant in a way that … doesn't settle quite nicely with me. Dragonborn lore is usually accompanied by swordsmanship, magic forte, and otherworldly prowess like being able to shout like Dragons. Though one thing most people are oblivious of is the fact that some Dragonborn aren't what they are because they foolishly listen to some attracting High Elf in distress. In fact to me, the craft of tongue is sometimes what deterred some traps from being successful. With Cidne, I wasn't quite sure at that time if she was leading me to a trap or perhaps really in dire need. Now that I find myself towards the main point of Skyborn Altar, I finally see what she was describing; better yet, I see the person she wanted me to save. Elenne, as Cidne had told me was a good friend of hers; so good their rapport is that the two are almost like sisters. It would make sense as to why Cidne would have concerns as she did when supposed remnants of Mythic Dawn kidnapped her and leaving behind a note with the words: 'Dragonborn'. For what purpose? I do not know but I intend to find out.

I ease Arvak to a slower pace as I find myself upon what was once a Dragon's resting place. From this distance I can see an Altmer standing trussed up to a pole in front of the altar where I gained a word for a shout some weeks ago. I don't quite recall what word it was nor do I remember the Dragon… so many slain dragons in my head…. So much souls I have devoured… Strange as it was that despite all of my effort, Alduins followers still remains. As to why the Mythic Dawn kidnapped this Altmer and left her in full view, that is something that will be revealed to me. Oblivious of my presence, Elenne hangs her head low as her long gold hair falling rather elegantly on her body despite how pitiful she looks. I would fathom that how much ropes restricting her to the pole, her head movement is the only thing that is hers.

"Ar—"

Before I was able to utter a word, a thunderous sound emerged from nowhere and struck me, causing me to fly off Arvak. The undead horse dispersed, back to his 'limbo' where he would be ready for me to summon him again. I on the other hand just barely recovered from my fall. The moment I am on my feet, Muramasa came off its sheathe; my full attention is now on the inevitable fight.

"HHHUNNMH! HMMP! HMMMMMMMMPPPP!"

Elenne now had her pleading eyes towards me, struggling uselessly against her binds and shouting fervently through the cloth over her mouth. I gave her very little attention as I now finally got a full view of my assailants. Mythic Dawn mages and necromancers. The whole lot of them holding magical weapons, palms radiating with elemental power, and a couple of Atronachs summoned. I notice the Storm Atronach still glowing from the power it released my direction.

"Welcome, Dragonborn."

One of them spoke. His staff in his hand pointing at my direction; the inevitable fight indeed.

**_To Be Continued …. _**


End file.
